


The Part Where You Fuck Him

by Littleredtryinghood



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: ;), Cunnilingus, F/M, Femdom, First Kiss, First Time, Grinding, if you like being mean to men you'll like this one, wheatley is a bratty bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26575966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littleredtryinghood/pseuds/Littleredtryinghood
Summary: “Be honest. Are you lonely, Wheatley?”"...Yes." Fuck, you were gonna do something about that.(AKA Wheatley eats you out!!!)
Relationships: Wheatley (Portal)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	The Part Where You Fuck Him

“Be honest. Are you lonely, Wheatley?” Wheatley’s eyes _immediately_ went to yours, defensive and vulnerable and _so fucking_ _blue_ all at once. “What, luv? ...You doing alright? If you need anything, you just tell me! You just tell me right away. Not exactly doing much else at the moment. ...N-not that I’m complaining!” 

An uncomfortable chuckle began to dissipate off the end of his rant- a desperate attempt to lighten the otherwise-not-so-light mood- but you could tell you had struck a chord. A knowing look his way was all it took to drown you both in sudden silence. How many years exactly had Wheatley been looking after a completely barren facility, with no one to talk to but himself? Suddenly his talkative nature didn’t seem so illogical. In fact, it seemed rather sad. 

“Me too,” you pushed into the empty space. The look of instant relief that moved across his face almost made you melt. “Yeah?” He tentatively offered. “Yeah,” you confessed. And if you weren’t already so certain that you wanted him, the grateful smile that curved his lips _definitely_ would’ve been the straw that broke the _very_ _horny_ camel’s back. Conveniently for both of you, though, you were already on top of him by the time that stupid idiom even crossed your mind.

“ _Luv, what are y-_ ” was all he was able to get out before you were kissing the air out of his lungs, fingers grappling for his shirt collar in a desperate attempt to bring his body flush to yours. Lips, tongue, and occasionally teeth, were quick to smooth over Wheatley’s adorably startled expression into one of utter and complete bliss.

“ _Luv…_ ” He attempted to speak in-between quick, feverish kisses, but you wouldn’t let him. The need for him was hot and palpable and unescapable. After so many hours facing nothing but artificial lighting and mechanical droning, the heat in your belly and the pounding in your heart were so deliciously _organic_ that you were afraid you were going to _drown_ in the desperate rush to have him. “Luv-” Wheatley tried again past his own dumbfounded smile. When you moved across his cheek and down his neck to let him talk, his mouth curled into a smug grin, and you suddenly felt a tentative palm press you closer to him.

“I-I just wanna, uh, make sure this is what you really want, luv. I mean, I _certainly_ do- in fact, if I’m being totally honest, I’ve thought about you like this _maaaany_ a time- oh bloody hell, IshouldNOThavesaidthat- my POINT _being_ -!” You cut him off with a particularly forceful kiss, tipping him over to land flat on his back, and the look of pure worship that glazed over his eyes when you pulled away was something you wanted to remember forever. 

“ _I want you, Wheatley_ . _Let me take care of you_ ,” you whispered as if it was a secret. Your hands instinctively reached out to feel the gentle warmth of his chest and you could’ve sworn you felt him shiver through your fingers. Finally, he moved. With all his courage, Wheatley reached forward, took hold of the back of your neck, and pulled you tantalizingly, painfully close. You swore you could feel the heat of his frenzied breath against your mouth. Blue eyes, hooded and haphazard, darted across your face, still looking for even the smallest hint that he shouldn’t go after what he wanted. “A-are you sure? I mean… _o-once we start, I might not be able to stop_ .” “... _Good_.”

You were pleasantly startled at just how quickly his hands shot up to grab you, bratty and entitled, traits you’d only seen subtle streaks of during the short time you’d known him. Like he was _owed_ something. _You_ . But he couldn’t just _have_ that. Wheatley’s eyebrows shot upwards when you slapped him away, and instead opted to pin his wrists onto the bed with a soft, but definite _thump_. His chest heaved for air in a moment of spontaneous speech, but he was cut short when you nestled your knee against his groin. The resulting sound was somewhere between a mewl and a hiss- and instantly you felt warmth bloom between your legs.

“ _Wow_ … alright, then. _That_ was certainly something…” Wheatley’s hot breath against your ear covered your body in goosebumps when he spoke. Suddenly, a flash of white hot dread seeped into your belly. _Was he? No way. Well… was he? It would make sense, wouldn’t it? It’s not like he had had many other options._ “Wheatley?” You released from anxious, pursed lips, “Are you a virgin?” And as soon as you said it, you regretted it. 

His face fell and immediately contorted as Wheatley fumbled for an excuse. “Well, I have done general research on the whole… _ordeal_ , so I will have you know ol’ Wheatley isn’t _fully_ in the dark- well, of course I’m not, I’m here with you, and I can see you just fine- it tends to crop up a lot in the folklore I’ve read about you lot. Kind of a, ah, _puzzle_ of the limbs, isn’t it? Not really sure how you keep track of where all those bits and pieces are going. Rather brilliant, if I may put in my two cents-” You grind your knee against him again and he immediately shuts up. A blush slowly crawls up his face as his mouth opens and closes, opens and closes again, before admitting, “...but, I guess in a traditional, applicable sense, _I am a virgin_.”

Not a problem. Not a problem _at all_ . You smiled down at him in a way that you prayed was reassuring, and leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to the side of his neck. And instantly, you felt him melt and soften beneath you. “B-but that shouldn’t be a problem, should it? I do have a, uh, general knowledge of what to do. _I think…?_ No! I m-mean, I can f-figure it out, I’m sure…” Wheatley rambled, messy and bordering on completely inarticulate, hands- you noticed rather late- cautiously attempting to inch their way up your body. You were quick to put a stop to that. 

Again, you grabbed his wrists with unerring speed and drove them back against the floor on either side of his head. Wheatley’s eyes _immediately_ glazed over when you began to hotly, fully _grind_ against his clothed cock. _Fuck._ The sudden ripple of want that shot through your core almost made you crumble. _Almost._ Wheatley’s breath audibly stuttered in surprise at the abrupt force, but only stopped speaking for a moment before continuing to nervously meander under his breath. “...But, r-really, no need to be… upset, luv…There’s always the possibility of ”beginner’s luck” and all that? Actually, n-not really sure if that traditionally applies to _this_ exercise, but I mean...” 

You noticed that as he spoke, his eyes slowly began to draw away from your own and, against his better judgement, down the form of your lazily undulating body. Pinning his wrists down forced Wheatley to pay attention to your increasingly energetic grinds against him, and when you grazed him just right, his monologue instantly caught in his throat, interrupted by an unexpected moan- deep and definite and so fucking _hot_. He seemed stunned at his own admission, eyes fluttering open, experated and giddily smiling to himself. Thrilled to make a sound so human. To feel a _pleasure_ so human. And you were _more_ than happy to deliver it to him. 

Almost against your own volition, your fingers trailed up to ghost Wheatley’s lips, and it set your heart skipping when he hesitantly parted them open. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t at all abject when you slid a finger against his tongue, wet and welcoming and seemingly salivating at your touch. “W-what are you-“ “ _Suck_.”

You grew slick as soon as Wheatley obeyed. He was rather good at doing that, you noticed, and the thought only made you wetter. Wheatley’s eyes closed as he eased down to the second knuckle, lips pursing and tongue running tentatively along the underside of your pointer finger. Your heart beat wildly against your rib cage when his stunningly blue eyes flickered up to you, almost as if asking for correction. Or maybe it was praise. _Fuck_ . You wanted to give him both and more and _everything_ all at once. But you didn’t really have time for either, because by the time he opened his mouth to speak, you had already slipped your pants down your thighs and slowly eased your finger inside. 

To your surprise, Wheatley’s hands immediately darted out to support your waist when you hissed at the feeling of being spread open. You couldn’t stop the broken sob that forced its way out of you when you bottomed out to the last knuckle. _Shit._ Maybe that was a little too fast. You paused to collect your breath, but Wheatley was quick to pull you out of your dizzyingly over-filled spiral. “Sweetheart, what are you-?” But then he saw the wetness between your legs, and realization hit him like a bus, or perhaps even a small spaceship. 

“So, that’s _your…_ ?” Wheatley’s face _immediately_ lit up, absentmindedly wetting his lips and craning his neck closer. “Would you…? Would you mind doing that again, luv? ...F-for science, of course,” he stuttered, timidly readjusting his hands around your waist. “ _Yes_ ,” you felt your lips form before you heard it. It wasn’t even a question. So you did it again. And again. _And again_. And each time Wheatley just repeatedly begged for more. “A-again? ...Would you, luv?” He almost seems to be whispering to himself, since his eyes never left the space between your legs. 

Adding your thumb against your clit was pure, perfect agony. Circular, counter-clockwise movements gave you goosebumps along your skin, and you were not afraid of making that known. Wheatley swallowed hard when you unabashedly whined and keened, reaching a hand out against his shoulder to stop yourself from falling over completely. He jumped at that, his eyes quickly moving to the spot that made you make such a sound, and a flash of understanding, excitement even, shone within his baby blues. 

“It’s certainly… _wet_ in there, isn’t it? _Fascinating_...” Wheatley whispered almost to himself, refusing to tear his eyes away from the manic push-pull of your fingers. And suddenly braveness filled him, and he was gently coaxing your thighs apart with his hands. “Just want a better angle, luv... I do hope that’s alright.” You nodded, and before you were even able to comprehend the sudden change in angle, you were flat on your back with Wheatley’s face tucked between your legs. There was no time to correct him- that humans traditionally ask before doing _that_ _there-_ his tongue was already sliding inside you. 

“Wheatley! _Jesus_ !” There was more shock than reprimand in your voice because, and you noticed rather quickly, his chatty, blathering mouth was put to _very_ good use in other places. His tongue curiously prodded and glided along the inside of your walls, and he seemed to relish in your taste. Pleased moans punctuated the throaty gulps for air and wet swallows he pressed against your labia, now pink and swollen with want. 

You lost yourself so completely between his lips and tongue and tentative teeth. He was experimental, precise, practical, but enthusiastic. Whenever a hiss would escape you, he made a note of it, curt and self-satisfied, a soft little “hm” in the back of his throat. Heat filled your belly when you discovered his warm fingers beginning to sprawl the backs of your thighs, grounding and arousing, all at the same time. “ _See_?” You pressed into the air, reaching a hand out to grip the back of his head. “You don’t always have to talk, you know.” And the fingers around your thighs suddenly dug harder into your skin. 

_Awww_. Your sweet, pathetic, _submissive_ Wheatley. _Fuck_ , you adored him. Something about what you said, or perhaps the way you said it, spurred a change in Wheatley. He melted into you, tilting his head to press longing kisses to your clit, desperate to fall even deeper, _deeper_ into you. A confidence, a cruelty previously unknown to you, bloomed in your chest when you pet his hair and purred, “ _You love this, don’t you_?” 

He confessed without words, moaning in response as his mouth opened wider and his palms pawed and pressed at the inside of your thighs. Sweet and fucking _hot_ as that was, you had wanted something different. With blunt nails and ferocious fingers, you pulled his head up and away by his stupid, perfect blonde hair. It was damn near impossible not to be distracted by the gorgeous pink color of his newly-flushed face and the single string of saliva that dangled like a jewel from his bottom lip. He made no attempt to wipe his mouth. And that alone gave you the courage to say it, “ _Answer me_.”

“ _Yes, yes, I love it_ ,” the words tripped out of Wheatley’s mouth before he even seemed to process what had happened. He was so genuine, so desperate, so in a state of utter worship that you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling- and Wheatley immediately mirrored it. Glasses askew, lips wet, hair sticking out every which way, he was a picture of adorable, sexed-out bliss. He was _your_ Wheatley. The Wheatley who had guided you through every terrifying, near-death escape, who had frantically lit your path and worried his pretty little blonde head off whenever you had to make a particularly dangerous jump, who had made your heart skip a beat when he laced his fingers with yours as you ran together to safety. Now, you wanted to pay him back. 

“What do you want?” “...Huh?” Adorable and dazed, Wheatley seemed to have blown a fuse. “What do you want me to do to you, _love_ ?” You teased out into the air, cooing his own catchphrase back to him as you smoothed a stray hair back behind his ear. Wheatley’s voice fluttered in his throat, “What do _I_ …?” A breathy laugh did nothing to cover up how flustered he was, and it suddenly struck you how unbelievably fragile Wheatley looked. Even now, he wanted to impress you. He always tried so hard to be right, to be the bigger man, to prove himself as if every moment depended on it. _As if_ he had _ever_ needed to prove himself to you. 

You reached your fingers up along Wheatley’s neck to pop a few buttons, and then pressed a lingering kiss to his collarbone. He shivered. Curious eyes shifted down his body, pinned against yours, and landed on a streak of bare skin above his hip, where his shirt had gotten untucked. And you didn’t feel yourself doing it, not even at all. But you _saw_ it. And you saw your hands reach out for it, for his hips, and just hold him. And even though he had just done... _that_ , this was the most strikingly intimate thing you’d done together- with your hips pressed together and Wheatley’s breath against your neck.

“Do me next, please,” it was so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “...What did you say?” You teased. And in response- not for the first time that night, and not for the last- you felt a warm hand move shyly across your waist. Wheatley breathed out against your storm: “ _Please_.” 

  
  


...And how could you _possibly_ deny him? 

**Author's Note:**

> DVD BONUS FEATURES : Deleted Scenes!
> 
> Pre-Betrayal Wheatley Porn (but he's kinda starting to be a little bitch):
> 
> “Oooohhh... wow.” You sharply twisted the two fingers inside of him, and again he gasped and whined like he was fucking dying. Dramatic brat, you laughed to yourself. “You doing alright there, baby?” You teasingly crooned to him, smiling as his eyes suddenly went starry and his breath stuttered, when you began a push, pull motion- in and out, in and out. Wheatley wet his lips and gasped as if to speak, but seemed to have nothing to say. “See?” You smirked. “You don’t always have to talk, you know.” A hostile shadow briefly crossed his face when you said it- so quickly you almost missed it. “Something to say, hon?” You latched onto his glare like a lifeline and curled your fingers sharply to the side. Another unintelligible groan.
> 
> Guess that was a no.
> 
> xxx
> 
> Post-Betrayal Wheatley Porn!!! :
> 
> “Aw, luv, why are you being so gentle with me?” Wheatley whined as you continued to trail seething, frantic kisses up his neck. There was no attempt to struggle out of the dominant grip against both of his wrists, but the tone in his voice held nothing but war. “I know you can do better than that.” 
> 
> “Shut up,” you spat and grabbed his still-clothed cock in a last-ditch effort to regain control. And if the fact that he was only getting harder told you anything, it was that it was almost working. Almost. The taste of salt against his neck was still the same as those hours spent riding him, pushing him against the dirt, then metal, then plastic floors of the facility. There were too many times to count, but that didn’t make this time feel any less desperate, like this could really be the last time. But you both said that every time, didn’t you? 
> 
> He was better-dressed now, yes. More polished. And as you reached down to ease your fingers under his shirt, feeling the harder, sharper edges and dips of his new body, he was- yes ...more fit, too. But you knew that his newly-manufactured self-pride could only go so far. And you were determined to find out just how far.


End file.
